


come back home (to our familiar path)

by yeosakoi



Category: Golden Child (Korea Band)
Genre: (all are very light), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault, Don't Take This Too Seriously, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prince Hong Joochan, Prince Lee Jangjun, Prince Son Youngtaek, Rating May Change, Weddings, jangjun is Hot and joochan hates that, jangjun's imaginary brother is named jonghyun and he sucks ass, joochan turned out to be kind of a brat whoops, prince AU, read author's note !!, seungmin is vry tired plz help him, that's all you need to know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeosakoi/pseuds/yeosakoi
Summary: It’s not that big of a deal, Joochan thinks. All he has to do is walk into a kingdom that was ready to cut his head just the day before, marry their bastard prince, and not give the crown prince a black eye in the process.
Relationships: Bae Seungmin/Son Youngtaek | TAG, Hong Joochan/Lee Jangjun, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 36





	come back home (to our familiar path)

**Author's Note:**

> henlo freinds ! im back w a jangchan fic, and a chaptered one to :D ! joochan turned out to be a bit of a brat, since he's playing the part as a 'spoiled prince.' don't take this fic too seriously; i don't know shit about royalty and politics T0T. this fic will probably be a few chapters, 4 - 6 chapters long, and most of the plot will most likely be minor/used to propel jangchan's relationship forwards. updates will most likely not be consistent, as i'm terrible at sticking to a schedule BUT i am determined to see this fic through, so while it may take some time, i WILL get through it. that's enough for now, so please enjoy the first chapter !
> 
> (title is from come back home - oneus !!)

Joochan hurries down the gilded hallways, hands at his waist furiously tying the belt of his nightgown tighter. He had barely bid his parents goodbye and retired for the night when Seungmin had gently but firmly shaken him awake, whispering fervently that the king and queen had summoned him to the King’s study. His mind had whirred in confusion as Seungmin brought him his robe to slip into along with his silk slippers, wondering what could possibly be so urgent that his parents required him in the middle of the night.

He stops at the great oaken doors, out of breath from rushing. He’s stood before these doors at the depth of the night countless times, and never did something good come from it. A cry of war, a death of someone beloved, the warning of a plague, what would it be this time?  
  
Inhaling deeply, he turns to Seungmin who’s in a similar state as him, catching his breath. “Wait here,” Joochan instructs. “I’ll see what appa and eomma want.” Seungmin nods grimly, and Joochan indicates for the guards to draw open the doors, striding in with his shoulders squared and lips set in a determined line. 

He’s greeted by the sight of his family—his father, mother, and pregnant sister, Minjeong, at whose side is her husband of three years—rounding the table, all eyes on him from the moment he walks in. The looks on their faces are foreboding—nothing good can come from them. Already, Joochan can feel his composure slipping. 

“Appa.” He bows respectfully to his father first, before turning to his mother. “Eomma.” He acknowledges Minjeong with a strained smile that she returns, equally strained, and his brother-in-law with a nod. 

“There must be something truly urgent and of signifiance taking place to warrant me being roused from sleep,” Joochan says. “What is it?” His family shuffles anxiously. 

“Urgent, yes. Significant, that it is,” his father replies, seemingly at a loss for words. “As it concerns _you_.” Joochan’s brows shoot up. 

“Concerns _me_? What could possibly-” The words die in his throat as his mother picks up an ivory envelope that he had previously missed. His eyes dart from the envelope to the blue wax stamp that had been broken off. That stamp. That was- 

“We have… received a _proposal_ of sorts,” the queen says, taking over in her husband’s stead. Joochan's heart leaps up to his throat. _Proposal._ The familiar envelope in his mother’s hands that he himself had received for months. The rough quality of paper that he had smiled at as he read the sweet words written out on them, the blue wax stamp imprinted with the insignia of an ox that he had broken countless times. It is everything he’d dreamed about, but it isn’t possible- 

“The Lee’s have sent us an offering of peace,” she explains, fingers unfolding the letter. “If we accept, they will immediately call off all their troops that are currently pressing at our borders and soon to spill into our kingdom, and instead will draft a treaty declaring an alliance in an exchange for peace and aid when they require it.” 

It all sounds too good to be true. It isn’t possible that the Lee’s would simply stop their assault because of a change of heart. 

“But there’s a catch,” Joochan guesses, and he knows he’s right when his mother shares a look with Minjeong. “I knew it,” he murmurs.

The king clears his throat. “The Lee’s have proposed a political marriage in exchange for peace.” Joochan’s eyes widen.

A… political marriage. He throws a wide-eyed glance at his sister, at her husband. The princess was already married off, and the kingdom only had one prince. Which was him. Which could only mean-

“Y-you mean-” It couldn’t be true. 

Just three months ago, crown prince Lee Jonghyun had expressed his sorrows through paper, lamenting that it was impossible for his and Joochan’s secret affair to go on any longer due to the state of affairs of their kingdoms. “We are two warring kingdoms,” his letter read “not only is it a disgrace to our people, chasing after this love is fruitless. Perhaps,” he’d written, “in another life, where the world is not so unfair, we would be able to live happily. I sign off here.” Joochan had cried for _days,_ leaving the inhabitants of the castle, including his right-hand, Seungmin, utterly confused. But here he is now, standing in front of his parents as they read out the marriage proposal from the Lee Kingdom, for only who can be Joochan. 

“To the Hong Kingdom to the South, I, King Lee induce a proposal-” The king is reading, but Joochan is hardly paying attention to him. 

The joy is bubbling and fizzing inside him, at what this proposal could only be- It’s all he can do to hold back the smile that threatens to break out across his face. It is really happening, is it not? He would be wedded to Jonghyun. Lee Jonghyun, the one Joochan had fallen in love with the moment he had stumbled across him at their courtyard four years ago, hand on his sword, standing so tall and handsome and stern- 

“Hereby propose for peace and prosperity for ages between the warring kingdoms-” 

The days he’d spent crying suddenly all seem in vain, and he feels foolish for wasting so much tears. Of course their love would prevail—the god would never let pure love go wasted, and that is what Joochan’s love for Jonghyun was—pure, unadulterated- 

“And to aid one another whenever hardship strikes-” 

All the nonsense Jonghyun had sprouted in his letter—Joochan should have never taken it to heart, not when they were clearly meant for each other, and the fates would always find a way to bring their hearts together-

“-In exchange for the marriage between the sole prince of the Hong Kingdom, Hong Joochan, and the second prince of the Lee Kingdom, Lee Jangjun.” 

Joochan stills, his thoughts coming to a halt. The words echo in his mind. 

_“The second prince of the Lee Kingdom, Lee Jangjun.”_

_“Second prince.”_ _  
__  
__“Lee Jangjun.”_

His world turns white. 

Lee Jangjun. 

Joochan knows of him, but of course he does. Even in the Hong Kingdom, the second son of the Lees boasted an inauspicious reputation of his own. Born from one of the king’s concubines, who was rumored to have been hung shortly after the birth of her son due to the queen’s jealousy, Prince Jangjun seemed to carry on his mother’s legacy of bad fortune. 

Unruly, brash, and wild, he was known for being found in red-light districts with dozens of women on either arm, spending his days drinking away with lowly scum. His own half-brother resented him; Jonghyun had described Jangjun as an “undisciplined bastard with no care for his nor the royal family’s appearance, indulging in cheap drinks and even cheaper women.” It was a common occurrence for the second prince to go missing for days and eventually thought dead, only to turn up at the castle drunk out of his mind, reeking of sweat and sex and beer. 

“It would have been a blessing to all if he had been indeed dead,” Jonghyun had written, “if not only to preserve the royal family’s blood by being tainted by some common whore’s blood, but to rid the kingdom and world of such an embarrassment.” 

The description Jonghyun had given him had horrified Joochan, who’s ideas of princes had always been strong, dependable, and courageous men such as how he’d thought of Jonghyun. He had promptly written a reply, exclaiming that “such an despicable man should have been stricken dead from the moment he had entered the world,” but here he is now, the blood draining from his face as he is informed of his engagement to said despicable man.

“The royal council and I have thought long and hard over this,” his father is saying, but it falls on deaf ears; all Joochan can hear and see and feel is the white that’s clouding his mind, buzzing in his ears. “Handing over our sole heir will essentially reduce us to a vassal kingdom; however, it is fated either way. They will surely overrun our borders before long and wreak havoc in our kingdom. By agreeing to this proposal, not only can we save our people from the disasters they would have to face, but also will allow the Hong Kingdom to gather their strength once again and attempt to take back full control in the years to come. If it means-”

“No.” The king stops in his tracks. Four pairs of eyes snap in Joochan’s direction, stunned.  
  
No one speaks. The guards at the door shuffle where they are standing, armor rustling.

“No?” He parrots, slow and disbelieving. Joochan balls his fists.

“No,” Joochan repeats, stronger than before. “I’m not going to- I won’t- You can’t make me marry him!” He cries out, voice getting shriller with every word. “I refuse to let you take away my freedom like this!” 

The inhabitants of the room blink at him, clearly taken aback from his outburst. The queen is the one to break the silence. “ _Joojjya,_ ” she begins gently, using his nickname in an effort to calm him down. All it does is cause Joochan to frown and turn away. “This is a dire situation in which the kingdom and the people are at risk, simply turning away a solution as this would be only what a fool would do-”

“Even at the expense of my happiness?” Joochan cuts in. “All my life, I’ve done what _you_ want me to do- I’ve dressed the way you wanted me to, studied what you want me to, and now you won’t even let me decide who I can love? All for some politics?” Tears brim at his eyes from the outburst of emotion, threatening to spill. “You’re more heartless than I thought!” 

“ _HONG JOOCHAN._ ” A heavy fist is slammed onto the desk, nearly splintering it in the process. Joochan shrinks back as the king rises from his seat, fury radiating from him. “You do not _dare_ to question the king’s decree. The proposal has been accepted and the messenger has already set foot for the Lee Kingdom—you will be handed over them and within two moons wedded to the prince. There will be no more discussion on this matter.”

Two moons… in sixty days Joochan would become the hostage of the Lees and basically the property of the troublesome second prince. He still cannot make sense of it—why the second prince, when the crown prince was unwedded and far more capable? Unless… Unless… A dread seizes at his heart.

“...What of the crown prince?” He dares to ask, voice quiet as a mouse. The king frowns.

“The crown prince has been wedded to the Jung princess since three moons ago.” His eyes narrow in suspicion as Joochan turns deathly pale once again. “What is your purpose of bringing him up?” 

Wedded. Since three moons ago. 

Three months ago Jonghyun had expressed his regrets and stopped returning Joochan’s letters. Three months ago, Joochan had gotten his heart broken only to feel the heartbreak all over again. 

Jonghyun was married. Not to Joochan, not to the one he had claimed to love. In his arms, where Joochan should have been, was a faceless woman. How could the world be so cruel! 

The realization crumbles any ideas of defiance Joochan had and he sags back, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. “...When am I leaving for the Lee Kingdom?” he asks, defeat lacing every word. His family exchange alarmed glances at his sudden change of attitude. 

“The servants have already begun packing your belongings,” the queen answers. “In three days time, you will set sail.” A disbelieving silence falls upon them.

Three days. Joochan’s lower lip begins to tremble. The world was really so unfair to him. Not only was he being forced into a marriage with a bastard prince, who was the _brother_ of his secret love, but he wasn’t even allowed time to accept his situation. 

Without a word, Joochan turns with a swish of his robe, the royal guards hastily pulling open the doors for him as he marches off with his head held high to save an ounce of dignity. The march turns into a run as the tears spill free, streaming down freely with no intention of stopping. The king makes a move to call him back, but he’s stopped when the queen lays a hand on his bicep, holding him back. Her eyes explain more than her words would.

In his bedroom, Joochan collapses onto his sheets, crying and crying and crying until he’s a mess of salt and hiccups and sniffles, tear ducts and heart exhausted. 

“You look like shit.” 

The words thrown at him from Seungmin hardly phase Joochan as he clambers abroad, because the other is right. He _does_ look like shit. Most likely the result of throwing a fit the night before and crying himself to sleep, the side effects of which are a puffy face and red eyes. He smiles humorlessly. 

“Maybe the prince’ll be so horrified by how ugly I am, and he’ll refuse to marry me,” he mutters, depressingly finding the idea to be his only hope. The pitying look Seungmin shoots him tells him no such miracle will happen. 

His family bids him goodbye tearfully; rather overdramatic in Joochan’s opinion. His family would be reuniting with him in just a short while, a little over a moon. There is a clear tension between him and his parents when they face each other; as if sensing his hesitation, the queen approaches first, pulling Joochan into her embrace, warm and comforting. “Whatever happens, do not let them dull your shine, my boy,” she whispers fiercely to him, and Joochan can’t do much but nod.  
  
The king does not embrace him, rather offering him a nod. Minjeong hops up to him to embarrassingly pepper kisses all over his face, before she makes him promise to write to her about every little thing. “Tell me whether the second prince is just as much of a charmer as the rascal he’s claimed to be,” she says, winking, prompting Joochan to wrinkle his nose in distaste. Charming? A ruffian such as the other? He thinks not.

With the royal family’s farewells said, the townspeople crowd at the docks to wave their prince off, although Joochan’s eyes are only on his family as they watch him leave. Despite the resentment he may have towards his parents, he feels himself choking up. Not good. Forcing a smile, he hurriedly gives a final wave to the crowd, before turning away to hide the tears that have sprung in his eyes. Being so emotional is unbefitting of a prince, he scolds himself. You’ll be seeing them again in a month's time. 

Two months in the Lee Kingdom, and then possibly the rest of the life. His hands won’t stop quivering no matter how hard he tries. 

He’s afraid. 

Never had he been away from his home for such a long time, let alone a foreign kingdom that they had been enemies with just until recently. He swallows dryly, willing for the shaking to stop.

As if sensing his anxiety, Seungmin reaches over to slip his hand into Joochan’s, giving a squeeze that immediately sends a rush of relief through Joochan. “It’s not as bad as it seems,” Seungmin murmurs, before he’s letting go and walking off to tend to his duties. 

Joochan sighs and looks out into the open ocean, at his kingdom that is getting farther and farther away. His gaze lingers on the flat land, the quaint village houses nestled together, his home the canopy to it all. He inhales deeply, tasting the salty air. 

It’s not that big of a deal, Joochan thinks. All he has to do is walk into a kingdom that was ready to cut his head just the day before, marry their bastard prince, and not give the crown prince a black eye in the process. He will get through it. He smiles, newfound courage thrumming through him. 

Yes, he’ll get through it.

-He’s not going to get through it. 

The three-day voyage is absolutely _horrid._ Joochan is in a constant state of nausea from the bobbing of the ship, reduced to a hunk of shivering and vaguely human meat. Seungmin had tried to coax him into eating bread at first, but quickly gave up when barely minutes had passed and Joochan had clapped a hand over his mouth and dashed out to empty his stomach. He’d settled with just patting the prince’s back in an attempt to be comforting as he hurls over the rails once again. With the way Joochan’s state is deteriorating, the possibility of the prince turning him away grows more likely. 

He’s in a fitful sleep on the final day, tossing and turning when Seungmin finally shakes him awake to tell him that land is less than a half-hour away. The news has all the energy that had drained out of him coming back in full force, Joochan bolting up to race out and cling at the rail, staring out at the lights emitting from what must be the kingdom. 

From this distance, Joochan can clearly see the Lee Kingdom, and… he’s _dazzled._ Whatever he had imagined of a gloomy, sorrowful, fortified kingdom in his head is a disgrace to the sight. 

The kingdom is surrounded by rolling cliffs, a stark difference to the flat land of the Hong Kingdom. Waterfalls flow from the cliffs, spilling down into rivers and canals that bridges are built over. Houses and shops and armories and blacksmiths and places he doesn’t even know the name of line the streets, the bustling marketplace emitting with light. 

And in the center of it all, is the royal castle. 

Set on stone at the center of the kingdom, impossible for the eye to miss, it encompasses and engulfs the villages that surround it, polished white walls gleaming in the sunlight. The red roofs of the countless buildings within rise above the walls, blooming like a lotus flower. His breath stutters as he takes it in, stunned. 

Although it only signals Joochan’s impending doom in becoming the Lee Kingdom’s hostage, his excitement to get off to feel solid earth under his feet cannot be dampened, excitement only growing as the anchor is thrown and the ship is docked. 

There is immediately a rush to get off the ship first, merchants, soldiers, and sailors alike all clamoring to be the first to leave. Amid the confusion, Joochan ducks into the crowd, darting through the bustle on the ship, to the bemoaning of his retainer, Seungmin, who loses sight of the troublesome prince immediately. 

Wholly oblivious to the suffering of his retainer, Joochan squeezes through the sea of people, breath knocked out of him by the time he pops out on the other side, feet experiencing the first crunch of Lee Kingdom soil. The sensation of soil under him, solid and dry, has him nearly weeping in joy—he’d grown sick—quite literally—of the unsteady movement of the boat under his feet. 

He looks up at the marketplace, breathing in wonder as he’s greeted by sights he’s never seen before. 

The marketplace is filled with life and light, lanterns strung along the walls emitting a glow that paints it in a beautiful pink, looking as if a place straight from a dream. People of all ages and ranks roam the dirt-hewn streets, from pompous women with heavy skirts and pounds of powder on their faces to lowly men stumbling around drunkenly with their shirts and trousers stained from alcohol to little children playing games with rocks and sticks, twittering around adult’s ankles. 

The mingling of common people and higher-ups; Joochan has never seen it before, and it amazes him. Slowly, as if possessed, he straightens and begins to walk through the market with no care for his own safety and the fact that he is unarmed without any protection, too caught up in childish wonder as he turns his head side to side, gasping at every little thing. 

He doesn’t know where to look; everywhere he turns, there is something that he’s never seen before. Merchants call out to him as as he passes by, Joochan staring in awe at a stall selling every spice there could be possibly found on the earth, cowering as a full-grown _tiger_ slams his head against its cage which looks far too flimsy to hold such a beast, and gawking at a merchant weighing rubies the size of chicken’s eggs. 

So caught up in traversing the marketplace starry-eyed, Joochan only realizes he’s lost when his feet sink into mud. “Ugh!” He makes a noise of disgust, yanking out his shoe, wincing at the wet dirt caked on the soles of his shoes. Seungmin will definitely throw a fit if he notices. 

A lone cough brings him out his thoughts, ringing out through the silence. Joochan frowns, gaze tearing away from the filth on his shoes. Huh. When had it gotten so quiet…? He looks up and nearly yelps in alarm. 

A pair of wide, hungry eyes stare into his own, greedily eying his expensive robes and neat appearance. And it isn’t the only pair of eyes that are eying him up; dozens of more eyes stare at him, their owners crouched in the shadows and leaning against dusty stone. A shiver goes down his spine as he registers the gaunt, pale faces of the gazes, cheekbones jutting out, skin stretched thin over their faces. A quick sweep of his surroundings confirms that not only every other individual is in a similar stare, but also the fact that Joochan no longer is in the marketplace. 

If the marketplace is bright and full of life, here is anything but. Dogs who are just skin and bones roam the street, scavenging for food, whining when they are kicked at or turned away. Clearly-starved children stare at him from the shadows, dressed in rags, their knees and shoulders knobby. Sick men bowed over on the ground, their moans and groans ringing loudly every so often. Women with bruised cheeks with nothing more than a strip of cloth to save their dignity huddle together, looking fearful as a man approaches one of them, dropping a few measly coins into their hands, before pulling her away roughly. _Whores,_ Joochan realizes. He’s heard plenty about women being pushed to the point of selling their bodies to survive, and had always looked upon the act with scorn. Seeing it right in front of his eyes… Joochan winces in a mixture of pity and disgust. 

The only other noise other than the sad whines of dogs and the groans of the sick is the yelling and shouting that can be heard behind the doors of the sole shop of the street; the pub. 

Joochan doesn’t miss the way the people on the street all tense as a particularly loud roar shakes the very walls of the pub, and that should have been enough indication for him to run without looking back, but curiosity killed the cat, and instead, all he does is watch with interest as the shouts get louder and louder until-

The doors of the pub burst open, and whatever sounds that had been muted by the doors are now blaringly loud. A sea of men spill out, roaring from laughter as they swig beer from large cups, beards matted and hair wild. All of them are broad and tall, with ugly faces and crooked noses. Their appearance has the children ducking farther into the shadows, the women looking as if they’re saying their final prayers, and even the most persistent dog running. Too late, Joochan realizes his mistake in not running away at the first chance. 

_Pirates. They were pirates._

Even with his tendency to not give a damn about putting himself in danger, catching the attention of any of the pirates would be asking for death. Joochan’s eyes dart around, looking for the quickest escape route. Which way had he come from? He’s sure he’d emerged from that alley—but the one next to it looked similar as well. He grits his teeth. 

The pirates leer at one of the whores, laughing as she falls to her knees to beg for mercy. Joochan takes a step back, ready to sneak away-

“Lookie wha' I found here!” He freezes as one of the pirates nudges his mate’s shoulder and gestures widely. “A wee lost lamb!” 

In a blink of an eye he’s surrounded, a dozen pirates making a show of smacking their lips and whistling as they ogle at him, glinting eyes raking over his curves and features. The biggest, burliest, and ugliest pirate who must be the leader steps up, laugh uncannily similar to a pig’s snort. He grins, feral and sharp. “A pretty one t’. Where did ye wander from, eh? Here's no galleon fer a pretty face as yers.”

“Bad scallywags will come 'n get ye!” A pirate says from the back, sounding delighted. 

Anger runs through Joochan. How _dare_ such lowly scum speak to him in such a casual matter! He was the prince of the Hong Kingdom, the future prince consort of the Lees, and this bastard dared to refer to him as a _“lamb.”_

If Joochan knew what was good for him, he would have kept his mouth shut as to not anger the pirates, but once again, he speaks before he thinks.  
  
“You _scum_ will not speak to me in such a casual manner again, lest you want your tongue cut off and lips stitched together,” he snaps, “I am no _little lamb_ , I will not tolerate disrespect.” He thinks he vaguely hears a gasp from one of the women who had been staring at him in pity. 

The pirate gapes as if Joochan had just slapped him across the face, while the rest are staring at him with wide eyes. He’s quick to recover, stepping closer to Joochan, driving him back. Despite himself, Joochan steps back, flinching as his back hits cold stone. 

"Disrespect, ye say? 'N who might ye be, lost lamb, that ye believe ye can natter t' so haughtily 'n nah end up skewered on my cutlass?" 

Joochan puffs his chest out, daring confidence running through him, jutting out his chin as he looks the pirate in the eye. “I am the prince of the Hong Kingdom. You dare to offend me and I will command you to be stripped bare and hung at the gallows.” 

There’s a stunned silence. Then one of the pirates snickers, prompting the one next to him to chuckle quietly, and the next to laugh loudly, before the entirety of them are bellowing in laughter, hands on their bellies as they guffaw. Joochan frowns at their reactions. Even after the threat on their lives, they still had the guts to mock him-

“This one's a funny one, cap'n, a wee hit in th' head.” A pirate chortles. “Got a cock t', sure ye wants 'im in yer cot?” 

The leader finally stops laughing to press closer into Joochan’s personal space who’s face screws up in disgust as hot, stinking breath fans over his face. “It don't matter if they be squiffy or got a cock or nah.” He smiles nastily once again. “‘Tis all th' same when they be cryin' under ye.” 

"That be true,” The other agrees. “Don't mess up th' face too much, we can use 'im fer ransom; th' wee lamb be clearly from some rich scallywags.” 

Belatedly, Joochan realizes that the pirates would not let him go simply because of his seemingly baseless threats. No, they wanted to take him as their captive and use him for money, and not only that, to _bed_ him. A sudden nausea seizes him. “Don’t step any closer,” Joochan hisses as the captain gestures for one of them to hand him a roll of rope and begins to approach, vile sneer in place. With his back pressed against stone there’s nowhere to run, the panic that he should’ve felt minutes ago settling in now. 

Burly hands reach for arms and Joochan reacts instinctively. Knee jerking up to hit exactly where he’d been aiming for, _hard,_ and the pirate drops the rope to grasp at his crotch, howling in pain. Even with his heart beating in his throat, his lips curl into a victorious smile as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I told you not to come any closer,” he says haughtily. 

Wrong choice of words. The pirate’s eyes flash in anger. 

" _Farrgin' strumpet-_ Chain his hands 'n strip 'im down- I don't care if his face get bruised or nah, I'll break that smart mouth o' his 'til he can nah do anythin' else but beg fer my cock-" His words are followed by answering cries from his crewmates as they all turn with murderous intent towards Joochan and it’s about time for him to make a run for it, if he wants to come out alive in one piece-

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s going on _here_?” 

A new voice cuts over the chaos, jovial and light. As if possessed, the pirates freeze in their tracks, heads snapping up towards the owner of the voice. Joochan hesitantly peeks at the ground through half-lidded eyes, confused as to why the pirates had stopped their advance. 

His eyes land on polished boots, scrubbed clean enough that Joochan can see his reflection in them. His gaze slowly moves up, dragging past a pair of wrinkled trousers, a cotton shirt stretched thin over a broad, well-muscled chest, to settle on the newcomer’s face. His breath hitches in his throat. 

The newcomer is… far too handsome for a ruffian. Far, far, _far_ too handsome, Joochan thinks, brows furrowing in insult. The stranger is striking in a devilish manner, with dark, slanted eyes that twinkle with mischief, nose sloped sharp and haughtily, lips curled in the manner of one who smirked often. The type of handsome that young village girls longed for to approach them in the dark of the night and sweep them away, the type of handsome Joochan had never been impressed by until now, as someone who admired the stern, sober prince-like beauty. But here he is now, mouth gaping like a fish as the stranger makes his way through the pirates, the crowd parting for him just as how the sea had parted for Moses. 

Almost in a trance by the appearance of this handsome stranger, Joochan can’t do much more but stare as the handsome stranger stops in front of him, dark eyes sweeping over Joochan’s form, his straight-backed, proud posture border-lining haughtiness, the red robes he’s draped in, the earrings that dangle from his ears. His eyes linger on Joochan’s face for a few seconds too long, something shifting in his gaze; as fast as his expression had shifted it smooths back, quick enough that the shift might have not even been there and could have quite simply been Joochan’s eyes playing tricks on him.

“Spoiled pretty boys shouldn’t be wandering around here,” the stranger says as a way of greeting. Joochan’s blood boils at his words, a scowl making its way onto his face. Oh, he already hates him.

“And who might _you_ be,” Joochan spits back, “to think you can simply stroll in and interrupt me in my business? I am no _spoiled pretty boy_ , I am-” 

The words die in his mouth as the man’s hands are suddenly on his waist, pulling him in so close that he can feel the warm breath of the rough whisper against his ear. “Be quiet and play along unless you want to end up skinned alive and flayed on a fire.” A full-body shudder runs through Joochan and for once, he listens, body going lax in the man’s grip. “Now then, gentlemen,” the man quips, turning his attention to the band of scoundrels watching the exchange in mild interest but mostly bewilderment. “Is that any way to treat my dear guest?”

“ _Guest-_ ” Joochan begins, aghast, mouth quick to snap shut as he receives a warning glare. The pirates are clearly familiar with the man because instead of resorting to violence, they only lower their hackles and squint in confusion. 

“Ye didn' tell us about no guests,” one of them grunts suspiciously, the others vehemently agreeing with him. The stranger smiles, so charming and blinding that Joochan would have believed anything he said at the moment, even if the other claimed that pigs could fly. 

“ _That_ is where you are wrong,” he says. “I remember quite clearly telling my dear friend here-” A nod to the captain, who frowns at the title, “-That I would be accompanying a pretty bird. And it seems _both_ parties have forgotten. What a mess we have spun ourselves into.” The handsome stranger sighs mournfully. Joochan’s mind is still catching up with his words, still processing the petname. 

_Pretty bird._ There seems to be a pattern of Joochan being named after small, defenseless animals today. Does he give off such an image? Joochan harrumphs quietly, annoyed. He is neither _small_ nor _defenseless_! Seungmin has taught him plenty in handling knives and how to effectively use his body for self-defense- 

He’s jolted out of his disgruntled thoughts as the stranger hugs him tightly to his side, turning at the heel and spinning the two of them without any warning. A yelp falls from his lips as he’s pulled along. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, gentlemen,” the man says. “We have places to be!” With a tip of an imaginary hat and a wink, they’re off, the man dragging him through dark alleys and unfamiliar paths. 

“Hold- Hold on!” Joochan pants out, completely out of breath, legs already aching from being forced to keep up with the other, who is _fast._ The stranger pays him no mind, if anything, speeding up even more than before. “Stop! I command you to-”  
  
The man pulls up short, the sudden stop sending Joochan stumbling forwards and crashing into his broad back. “W-what-” Now not only is his legs aching, but his nose is smarting painfully from the impact. Today is just going splendidly. 

And it only grows more splendid as the man throws him a grin, sharp and roguish. “You asked to stop, didn’t you? I only did what you asked.” Joochan grits his teeth. “Careful, pretty bird. Didn’t your mother tell you if you frown too much your cute face will be missed up? I’ve only seen you scowl; this face would look much better in a smile.” All the words do is deepen his glower. He makes a move to shove the man’s hand off his waist, hissing in annoyance when the man’s grip turns out stronger than he had expected. 

“Let me go,” he struggles against the man, who even while offering no resistance against him, Joochan fails to squirm his way out. “Unhand me, you fiend! You have the wits to lay your filthy claws on me, a _prince-_ ” 

Just like earlier, something shifts in the other’s expression, shadowy and dark, but this time Joochan knows for certain that it is not the trick of a light. Then he’s turning on Joochan again, pressing far too close for comfort, eyes boring into Joochan’s. Joochan squeaks and pulls back the farthest he can while still in the taller’s grip, a pulse of fear and surprise running through him. “Prince? The Lee Kingdom only has two princes—one a pompous fool, and the other a misunderstood bastard, and you’re neither the part. No, your clothes, your face, and the nonexistent concern you have for your own safety tells me a different story.”

 _Pompous fool!_ Jonghyun is no pompous fool and Joochan has half a mind to defend him until he recalls how ungraciously the prince had rid him and became espoused with a woman. Instead, he scoffs loudly, tossing his head. “A prince of the Lee Kingdom? I would be ashamed to be born of such ill blood. No, _I_ am the prince of the esteemed Hong Kingdom, to marry _your_ prince within days. After which his power is my power, and I will command my husband-” he cringes at the word, “-to send a legion of soldiers to seek you out and chop off your offending hands for daring to lay a hand on the prince consort-” His grand plan is cut off by a chortle which is quick to turn into a cough when he snaps his eyes onto the owner of the laugh. “Why- why are you _laughing_!” A wave of childish annoyance sweeps over him and he stomps his feet, angry. “All of you rascals laugh into my face as if I am a court jester, you will glad if you will even be able crack a smile when you are walking the steps at the gallows-”  
  
“Ah, no, no pretty bird, I’m not laughing at you, why would I ever, _Your Highness,_ ” the other says, and if anything, Joochan’s irritance grows. The stranger is making fun of him, isn’t he, blinking at him with eyes swimming with mirth and a ghost of a smile gracing his lips?  
  
Joochan growls. “It’s not funny.”  
  
“Of course not, bird.” The barely-concealed laughter behind the words as the man guides him through the marketplace tells him otherwise. 

He fights the urge to stamp his feet again. “Then, why are you laughing!” 

“Not at you, but at the _absurdity_ of this situation.” Another chuckle. “Husband… Cut off my hands… _Pfft-"_

“Not only will I cut off your hands, but I have decided to rip out your tongue as well, for the words you continue to say even after you’re aware of who I am,” Joochan declares. _That_ should put him in his place.

The man stops again, and now Joochan can recognize where they are as where he’d passed by earlier, the merchant who had been weighing rubies now investigating a jewel of deep blue. “I’ll take your word for it, Your Highness,” he says, a smirk playing across his lips. “I look forward to seeing your pretty face again, hopefully smiling next time.” He leans a little closer. “A word of advice, bird? Don’t go around announcing your identity to common folk, or else you’ll face quite an unhappy fate.” Joochan scoffs.

“I don’t recall allowing you to tell me what to do. There won’t be any _next time_ , I will drag you to the castle with me right here and now and punish you for your crimes-”

“Prince Joochan!” The loud shout jolts Joochan out of his manifesto, losing his attention on the other as he swivels around to search for where the shout had come from, landing on a small and very furious figure—Seungmin, flanked by the royal guards. If looks could kill, Seungmin’s expression that is brimming with rage would have very well stricken Joochan dead. 

“Where. Have. You. _Been._ ” Seungmin flaps over to him, hands grabbing at Joochan’s shoulders and shaking him. “You up and _disappeared_ and for the last hour we have been searching for you and there was no trace of you-” 

“I went on to explore a bit-” 

“Explore a _bit_?” He rakes an eye over Joochan’s state. “You look as though you were dragged through hell and back!” 

Joochan purses his lips. Now _that_ was an exaggeration. Sure, his robes might be in a disarray, his shoes covered in dust and soles coated in dirt, and hair slightly (very much) mused, but he did not look that horrible! Besides, his current state isn’t _his_ fault it’s all-

“Don’t blame _me_ for how I look! It’s all because of _him_!” Joochan exclaims, gesturing wildly at where the handsome stranger is. “Showed out of blue and grabbed me, dragging me through filthy streets and still has the courage to speak to me as if I am a common man-” He stops in his angry ramble when he notices Seungmin staring blankly at him. “ _What is it?_ ” 

Seungmin glances back and forth between Joochan and where he’s gesturing, and then, hesitantly: “Who… are you talking about? There’s no one behind you.”

“ _What._ He’s _right_ behind me, have you lost your sight-” He turns to point out the other, but- 

His eyes widen and jaw drops. The space behind him is empty, no sign of the handsome stranger—as if he had never been there in the first place. 

The entirety of the way up and through the castle Joochan grumbles and whines, the day’s events souring his mood and lowering his already low expectations for the prince and his family. “A kingdom of barbarians and peasants who don’t know what respect is!” He sniffs loudly, indignant. “I don’t know why I expected any better.” 

At his side, Seungmin shoots him a wary glance. “I think it would be wise to not let them hear you say that.”

Another sniff. “I will do as I wish!” Seungmin lets out a deep-suffering sigh. Their guide to and through the castle, a young man with bouncy curls who can’t be much older than Joochan, awkwardly clears his throat. 

“...Yes. And here is the throne room. The king will be meeting with you inside.” He bows, gesturing for them to enter. 

“And why couldn’t the king simply meet us from the very start?” Joochan mutters. His thoughts drift back to the handsome stranger, the remembrance of his sharp smiles and sharper tongue sending another wave of anger over Joochan. He unconsciously rubs his torso, the places where the other had gripped at the waist burning from the reminder of the touch. “Would have saved us from much of this mess.” The guide (Jihoon? Jaemin? Joochan can’t remember) colors at his remark. 

“The mess that _you_ got yourself into?” Seungmin mumbles under his breath, feigning ignorance when Joochan glares at him. 

“The king has been… Feeling unwell for the past few moons. Apologies for any insult the prince may have taken from this.” The guide says, looking quite afraid. Joochan huffs. 

“Yes, yes. Whatever you say, Johnny.” 

“...Jaehyun.”

Seungmin nudges his side, most likely to remind him to play the part as the _gracious prince_ that Joochan has already proved that he is not. He rolls his eyes, but complies.

“My deepest gratitude for the help, Jeongwoo.” 

A quickly muttered, “ _It’s Jaehyun,"_ before “I live to serve, Your Highness.” 

The doors are drawn open and a man with a loud, bellowing voice announces, “the betrothed of Prince Lee Jangjun, the prince of the Hong Kingdom, Prince Hong Joochan!” Joochan notes with displeasure that his status as Prince Jangjun’s fiancé is mentioned first before his position as a prince of the Hong Kingdom. 

Like a moth to a flame, the first thing, or rather, person, Joochan catches sight of is- 

_Jonghyun._

There he is, standing so bright and tall and proud, just as handsome as Joochan remembers. The willpower it takes for Joochan to not throw all caution into the wind and cry out and run into the prince’s arms has his hands shaking and his throat going dry. As if it is the most natural thing for him to do, Jonghyun turns his head, his eyes sliding to meet Joochan’s and-

And they are cold. Cold, empty, and devoid of any emotions towards him or this matter. A chill seizes Joochan. No! No, it can’t be… 

If he had any hopes that Jonghyun would meet his eyes and incredibly, everything would be alright, they are all for naught as his eyes move from Jonghyun to the woman at his side— _the Jung princess_. 

Sweet, with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, Joochan hates her instantly. His eyes gravitate towards her small, pale hand that rests on Jonghyun’s arm, to the purple gem that sparkles on her finger. But what truly catches his attention and crushes his hopes is not the ring, but the small bulge that protrudes from her robes, just at the stages of becoming noticeable; Joochan himself wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t just seen Minjeong in the same state. His heart plummets to his stomach. 

The princess is pregnant. Pregnant with Jonghyun’s child. He desperately looks back at Jonghyun, hoping, wishing, to see _something_ , a glimmer of condolence, or guilt, or even pity, but there is nothing; it’s as if he is looking into empty pitfalls. 

It takes everything for Joochan to hold back the choked sob that rises to his throat and force himself to look away and trudge forward. 

Joochan’s eyes sweep the throne room as he tries to distract himself from Jonghyun’s stiff figure. The second prince—his future husband—is nowhere to be seen, the place where he would have been standing empty. The king does not look the least bit worried about the absence of his second son, and seemingly delighted at Joochan’s appearance, a wide grin stretched across his face. The queen is quite a different story. 

Her lips are pinched together in displeasure as she looks down at Joochan from her throne, brows drawn together and knuckles white from where they are folded at her lap. A sensation of apprehension, much, _much_ stronger than what he had felt when facing the pirates, fills Joochan, a shiver running down his spine. 

Barely a few hours into the kingdom, and Joochan already has a sinking feeling he has made a terrible, terrible enemy. 

As per custom, as a prince, Joochan offers a deep bow to the king, only raising his head after the king commands him to rise. 

“Prince Hong Joochan,” the king declares in a booming voice. “It is with great joy and pride we welcome you and the glad tidings you bring with your presence into our kingdom. Surely, this signifies new beginnings for both the kingdoms.” 

New beginnings for both kingdoms? More like the gradual collapse of the Hong Kingdom and the sole dominion of the Lee Kingdom. Joochan forces a smile. “It is a great pleasure and honor for me,” he says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue, “to be the bridge between our kingdoms. Although…” His eyes wander to the empty space beside the king, who seems to catch on. 

“Ah, yes.” The king lets out a sheepish and quite unkingly chuckle. “My son, Jangjun, is… How should I say it. Running a bit late?” Another unkingly chuckle. 

Joochan’s lips curl in distaste. How unfitting of a prince. The queen seems to share his sentiment, expression turning stormy at the mere mention of the second prince. Distantly, Joochan recalls the second prince’s birth; his mother a concubine whom the queen had beheaded after his birth in a fit of jealousy. Prince Jangjun served as a constant reminder to the queen, of the king preferring a common woman over her, which would explain the bad blood between the queen and the second prince. 

Before Joochan can mull over what this means for him, the doors to the throne room burst open, bouncing off the walls with a bang. He jolts at the sound, wheeling around in surprise and in a flash, his guards surround him, Seungmin at his front. Their hands fly to their sides, ready to draw out their weapons. Amid the flurry of action, Joochan eyes catch onto the royals, and- 

They don’t seem the least bit concerned, expressions resigned and almost… _b_ _ored_ as if this is something they experience daily, save for the king, who is still grinning. 

An attack? No, not with the reactions of the royal family. His eyes dart back to the doors blown open, locking onto the single figure standing between them, looking strangely familiar- 

“ _Appa!_ ” 

Joochan’s blood runs cold. 

In struts who can only be the second prince of the Lee Kingdom, his strides long and purposeful as he makes his way through the room, as if _he_ is the king. Joochan stares in dawning horror as the prince stops at his side, falling into a low and exaggerated bow. “I must have kept you and our fair company waiting, please overlook this grievance, appa.” 

The words dripping with satire, the playful smirk that is playing across his lips, the dark eyes that meet Joochan’s with terrible familiarity… The king laughs heartily. “Not at all, dear son. In fact, you are just in time.” He gestures to Joochan, who has been watching the exchange with ever-growing dread, his suspicions confirmed as Prince Jangjun faces him, feet stopping just by him in an echo of earlier, this time without the pirates snapping at Joochan’s neck. 

The wrinkled trousers and shirt may now be swapped for a hanbok of deep blue, the tousled hair now combed neat and wavy, but there is no doubt as to who it is. The prince dips down to take Joochan’s smaller hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss onto it, before he looks up to meet Joochan’s gaze with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“Apologies for the wait, pretty bird. It is a _pleasure_ to meet you once again.” 

_Oh, fuck._

**Author's Note:**

> come be friends with me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/yeosakoi) !! ty for reading !!


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